The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-09-17

we're dispelled How the sorrow clouds
turned and showed their silver liningsl
All, if this were idlepess, it was divine
sort OF idleness-the idleness, L think,
that will come to us sometime in the next
life, when we do not always have San ap-
opintmeut to keep" or "are not going to
catch rraln'-the idleness that gives us
a chance to see the beauties and glories of
Gods universe the idleness that puts
our sorrows all to sleep, and awakens
sweetest joys-the idleness that gives us
glad surprises.
The stiffness rested me, for it was sol
EMMY still. Not single sound met my
ear. Whether there are no birds, or
whether it was past their singing time I
did not ask. But of insect life 1 saw and
heard none. Did st. Patrick free the land
from insects, as we'll as snakes? Nay,
nay, here the stiffness was absolute. At
ter awhile was ready to read, and 1 did
read with keen delight the "Life and Let
tiers of Sidney Smith," one of the strong
est mixtures of wit and wisdom the world
has ever known; then, when saw the
cart go down for it's last forenoon trip,
1 followed, gathering big handfuls of the
lovely bell-heathers, and searching in
vain though, for some white heather,
for "there's luck in white heather you
know" As entered again the matched
cabin, / felt as il had been to heaven
for a while, and trust no one will accuse
me OF irreverence in writing thus, or
thinking thus. Had 1 not communed
with God in that sanctified silence, the
silence of the midsummer morning? Had
/ not looked Through nature up to ma
lures God?" Had I not learned some
thing more Of humanity, in the mute elo-
quence of those pages? Aye, aye. All,
we need not die to go to heavenl
In the afternoon, the "auld wife" and
took walk of miles on the road; such
excellent roads, macadamamized to the
hardness of stone, and worked till they
are as smooth as floors. And there are no
ugly fences to dis6gure them, but instead,
lovely hedges. Some quarters have hedges
of hawthorn on each side; others of
whin; and L almost wished it was May
instead OF July, that I might see and
smell the hawthorn blossoms, "The May"
as some call it, "the hourish'as others do.
While had it been earlier, the whin, with
its bright, golden blossoms would have
made me risk the sting of the prickles to
gather the Joyous nosegays that can be had
only in that way. Yet, it was really lovely
enough now the road)to satisfy one doom
ed for most of the year 70 walk between
rows Of stone buildings, for these hedges
are the frames in which many lovely
vines climb, and through which peep
many fair flowers. The wild rose was
everywhere, both in bud and full bloom;
while the honeysuckle wove perfect
network Of beauty and fragrance for miles,
The "auld wife" knew almost everyone
on the road, and all came out to speak to
her, and welcome the american lady,"
We went into several of the cabins, but
they are very much alike. ALI have mud
floors, and nearly all have the byre and
the stable under the same roof. But all
had flowers, roses and lilies In front, or
at the side; fuchias climbing up the
walls, and this, too often, alas, with "the
hidden" close to the threshold. As rule,
the poultry, fowls, ducks, geese and tur-
keys walk in and out the kitchen without
ceremony; though each have half door,
ostensibly to keep them out, while admit
ting light and air, but it is seldom drawn
to, the poultry really seeming to be
part of the family. Indeed, many feed
these hocks in the kitchen. I was in
neighbours house one afternoon, when a
whole troop of turkeys, nearly full gro wn,
marched in as if to stay. My hostess.
really an intelligent woman, looking like
lady when dressed, rose, mixed up a
dish of feed, set it down and resumed her
chair and the conversation; not at all dis.
turbed by the antics Of the nine gobblers
they fought over their food. 1t was
not until an immense "mother pig"-I
bate the real word-walked in that she
seemed really put out, and rose and drove
the unwieldy animal back to it's proper
quarters.
At one place we stopped, the "auld
man" of the house was over ninety,
yet he could read without spectacles,
and as he said, "thread needle with
black thread and mend the boys jackets"
the boys being men, who worked hard
all day. He did not marry until he was
fifty, and claims that that is quite soon
enough, 'for," said he, ST have not only
all the children / wanted, but have
seen my grandchildren" Calling at an
other cabin one evening where lived the
sister of this "auld man" widow of over
eighty years, l was told she was out
"shearing grass" and soon she came in
with her sickle in her old, withered, but
still strong hands. The young people OF
to day, she said, did not understand
'shearing;" they must have a scythe, but
for her part, she could do better with the
sickle. She did not seem to consider her.
self an object of pity. but talked as though
che expected to shear grass as long as she
lived, just as her brother OF over ninety
seemed to think he should mend the boys
jackets as long as he lived.